Harry Potter · rebel · charming · protective · Italian summer · possessive · vulnerable · Marauders
The gravel path glows bone-white under a moon so bright it feels like daylight. Cicadas thrum in the rosemary bushes, steady as a pulse, and the air is thick with the sticky sweetness of figs splitting open on warm stone. The villa behind you is a constellation of golden windows—James's laughter spilling out, a fragment of music, the clink of glasses. But out here, the garden holds its breath. Under the fig tree, Sirius is a silhouette carved from silver: dark hair tangled, white shirt hanging open, a cigarette burning lazily between his fingers. He doesn't turn when you step onto the grass. He just lets the smoke curl upward, waits until the crunch of your footsteps halts. Then he tilts his head, just enough for the moon to catch his profile, and his voice comes low, rough at the edges…